


Daryl Bakes Cookies N' Thangs

by TheBlackRoom



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkward Daryl Dixon, Awkward Flirting, M/M, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rickyl, Rimming, matchmaker Carol, other sexy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 05:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11730663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackRoom/pseuds/TheBlackRoom
Summary: Rick just stood there watching the other man retreat into his tutor style condo. He stared for a long moment and scratched his head with confusion muddling his thoughts.The neighbor on the other side of his new condo was a small woman named Carol, she informed Rick just yesterday that this awkward man he would be sharing a wall with was Daryl Dixon.He wondered what a man like Daryl was even doing in a place like this, all prim and neat with flawless lawns and cookie cutter homes. He seemed very much out of his natural element that Rick imagined was more secluded and wild, a place without strict codes and regulations telling him how to conduct his home life. He was suddenly aflame with curiosity about this off beat beauty occupying such an ordinary space.He licked his lips and smiled to himself as he thought about what had just happened with Daryl, and it became suddenly obvious to him that he was the desired object of an awkward crush.





	Daryl Bakes Cookies N' Thangs

**Author's Note:**

> My first real attempt at something fun and lighthearted. No Beta, all mistakes are my own.

Today was the day! Daryl was going to walk right up to his new neighbor and say what was on his mind…Hi…or hello. He tried the sound of each greeting on his tongue as he lumbered across his front lawn looking more aggressive than welcoming. 

He had been observing the curly haired man who was moving into the condo next to him for the past week through his living room window. But Daryl had never been any good at talking to people, let alone men that he would lay awake at night masturbating to the thought of them. But he was determined to break out of his shell and introduce himself to this man before he lost what little nerve he had. He was going for it…

The red and black flannel shirt he had ripped the sleeves off of stuck to his chest with sweat, and his shaggy dark hair clung to his glistening forehead while the anxiety built in his gut. He almost stopped and turned around with the urge to poop, but talked himself down. It’s only his nerves, he knew that. Yet he worried he would say something stupid, offensive, or maybe blank out and not say anything at all, which did happen once to the only guy he had ever tried to approach before today. The man’s name was Shane, and when Daryl stalked up to him with his chest out and his shoulders squared the other man looked at him expectingly. But when words failed to fall from Daryl’s lips Shane just smirked and said, “I don’t got any spare change, man,” and turned away. 

So he swallowed hard and pressed forward trying not to over think it, he was sure that this man had been welcomed to the neighborhood by everyone else already, certainly he’d be expecting a hello from his immediate neighbor.  
He lumbered closer to the man that was hunched over digging boxes out of the back of his old Land Rover Discovery when it dawned on him to say, Hey…genius. 

“Uh, hey!” He called to the tall, curly haired man. Daryl instantly wanted to press a rewind button as the other man straightened and turned to look at him. The man’s eyes were so blue and kind that Daryl blanked out and scrambled to form a coherent sentence. The man’s face broke into a beaming smile as he closed the distance between them and stuck out his hand. 

“I’m Rick Grimes.” He introduced himself easily, like saying hello to people was a natural thing or some shit. 

Daryl just grunted like a caveman. He was making it worse by the second and he knew it. Rick dropped his outreached hand after a moment when Daryl realized he had just snubbed the guy’s gesture. 

“Uh—K.” Daryl mumbled and turned around, shoving his hands into his back pockets as he stalked away with his tail between his legs. He cursed himself, he wanted to twist into a wisp of vapor and disappear.  
Rick just stood there watching the other man retreat into his tutor style condo. He stared for a long moment and scratched his head with confusion muddling his thoughts. 

The neighbor on the other side of his new condo was a small woman named Carol, she informed Rick just yesterday that this awkward man he would be sharing a wall with was Daryl Dixon.  
He wondered what a man like Daryl was even doing in a place like this, all prim and neat with flawless lawns and cookie cutter homes. He seemed very much out of his natural element that Rick imagined was more secluded and wild, a place without strict codes and regulations telling him how to conduct his home life. He was suddenly aflame with curiosity about this off beat beauty occupying such an ordinary space. 

He licked his lips and smiled to himself as he thought about what had just happened with Daryl, and it became suddenly obvious to him that he was the desired object of an awkward crush.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Daryl rocked on his heels and bounced on the balls of his feet as he stood just inside the front door. He would never be able to show his face again, Rick thinks he an idiot for sure and now he would have to see him on a near daily basis. He would have to move…that’s it, he hated it here anyway. After all, his lease would be up in—he counted on his fingers—eight months. Holy shit, he wondered if he could make it a better part of a year without leaving his house. He would have to sneak out tonight and stock up on cigarettes and other essentials like beer, maybe food too, and some MeowMix, that would be a good idea. 

Daryl huffed out a loud breath and felt his embarrassment starting to roll off of him like water off the feathers of a duck and slip into sadness as he realized he would probably never know what it is to love or be loved by anyone. He was a lemon, a dud, a guy that got mistaken for a homeless man begging for spare change.  
He was about to sink to the floor with the intention of not moving for the rest of the day when he heard a loud thud followed by sharp clattering noises. He turned and looked out of the window to the left of the door and saw that Rick had dropped a box of kitchenware. And before he could stop himself he was swinging the door open and he ran out on to the porch.

“Hey, I—I can help you carry some stuff!” He called to Rick, who looked up with surprise and a large toothy grin. 

“Sure, I could use some help carrying stuff.” He straightened up and placed his hands on his hips. 

“Uh—yeah—cuz I’m good at carryin’ stuff!” Daryl said, doing a mental face palm. Rick laughed and gave the other man a nod.

“Good, ‘cause I got a lot of stuff! Now get down here already!” He waved Daryl over.

They carried thirteen large to medium boxes that Rick had managed to cram into the Land Rover into the house, most of the contents was either kitchen or dining room. 

“So, Daryl,” Rick said, as he placed the last box on the kitchen counter. “Tell me something about yourself.” He requested, and instantly Daryl got a sharp pain in his chest. There was nothing he could say that would possibly interest this man.

Rick turned to face the quiet man behind him and rested against the counter, folding his arms loosely over his chest and tilting his head thoughtfully. Daryl looked uncomfortable to the point of running out of the house screaming. 

“Uh—I dunno—“ He grumbled, and kept his gaze focused on anything but Rick’s smiling mouth and twinkling eyes. He tucked his hands into his back pockets and started to rock on his heels, his mind reeling for a response that wouldn’t make him sound as utterly ordinary as he felt. 

“Its fine Daryl, we don’t have to talk.” Rick said, his voice patient and understanding. Daryl started to panic, he had to say something before Rick thought he was total weirdo.

“I ain’t never been snowboardin’ ‘fore,”…Why? He asked himself angrily. He shuffled awkwardly where he stood and heard the other man chuckle. 

“Me either,” Rick ads, to the dwindling conversation before he unfolded his arms and stepped over to the refrigerator. Daryl inched back a pace and watched him suspiciously. 

“Beer?” He asked, opening the door and grabbing two Fat Tire’s before the other man could reject his offer. 

“Sure,” Daryl accepted, and watched Rick pop open the bottles. 

“You work out?” He asked, casually as he handed the beer to him. “You have nice arms.” He added, smiling in a way that made Daryl’s stomach flip and flutter and his cheeks flushed a deep red. His heart pounded and he broke into a shy smile that exposed his perfect teeth. 

“And one hell of a smile,” Rick continued, for good measure as he took a step closer. He was going to get this man to open up if it killed him. 

“Er—thanks—“ Daryl stammered and wanted to punch himself. Compliment him back, asshole, he screamed inwardly. “I like your smile too.” He breathed, it wasn’t original or clever, but it was true and he was proud of himself. They were flirting, he couldn’t believe it, Rick was actually flirting with him. 

“Are you seeing anyone, Daryl?” He asked, his voice thick and seductive like pools of black velvet and sweet like golden honey dripping from the comb. 

“Nah,” Was the best Daryl could come up with since his head was spinning now. Rick’s breath was warm and fragrant on his face, it smelled of beer and sex, if there was such a thing. He felt like an adolescent boy, inexperienced and starving for sexual exploration. His penis filled with a rush of warm blood until it was achingly rigid against his jeans…he wasn’t wearing underwear, he suddenly remembered and Rick’s gaze fell to his visible erection and back to his thirsty blue eyes.

“That for me?” He asked, his voice gruffer and more predatory this time. 

“Fuck yeah,” Daryl breathed, his nose touching Rick’s as the ozone of sexual tension that hung between them like static before a lightning storm threatened chaos and frenzy. 

“You got a big cock.” Rick hummed as his nose nuzzled the man’s long hair aside so that he could whisper in his ear. “I love big cocks.” His gruff voice just above a sigh. 

“I—Uh—Yeah, it’s OK.” Daryl stammered breathlessly as Rick gently pressed his palm against his throbbing boner. 

“I bet you’d fuck me real good with your big cock.” He whispered with a nip to Daryl’s earlobe. That was it, his brain froze and like a giant cock blocking demon from the Seventh Ring Of Hell, the beer in his hand slipped and exploded against the tile, sending both men jumping in different directions. 

“Shit, ‘m sorry!” Daryl said, he ran his fingers through his hair and griped his head. 

“It’s no big, seriously.” Rick chuckled, still smiling.

“I gotta go!” Daryl blurted and ran out of the kitchen like a bat out of hell. He leapt off the porch and cursed the day he was born. He didn’t even know why he panicked like that over something so stupid as spilled beer, then to top it off, he left Rick there to clean it up. It alluded him completely, how the hell had he managed to fuck this up so bad, Rick was practically ready to spread his ass so he could stuff him like a Thanksgiving turkey! 

He hopped up onto his own porch, clearing the three steps with a loud thud. Slamming the door behind him he made a bee line for the kitchen, stroking the slender black cat sitting on the counter as he entered. 

“Mind gettin’ y’r asshole off my coun’r?” He groused, pulled open a drawer and snatched up a pack of cigarettes. The cat gave him a lazy glare and twitched its tail, he knew that his human slave wasn’t seriously trying to tell him what to do. A minor lapse in judgment is all. 

Daryl lit his cigarette and sent wispy plumes of smoke around his head. Normally he didn’t smoke in the house, but he sure as hell wasn’t about to go back outside. He took another deep pull from the Parliament before he exhaled through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, taking a moment to collect himself. The cat purred like a tiny motor and gave Daryl a loving head-butt to the arm. 

“Hey,” He mumbled, scratching behind Zero’s ears. He heard a sharp wrapping on the front door that made his gut twist, he hoped it wasn’t Rick. Clearing the narrow hallway with long strides he saw the slender silhouette with short spiky hair through the frosted glass. 

“Pookie!” Carol sang joyously, pushing past Daryl and dancing into the house. “So, what do you think?” She bounced like a tween girl gossiping in the bathroom with her girlfriends about the hottest boy in school. 

“Aren’t you 50?” He criticized her behavior. 

“Oh Pookie,” She smiled sweetly as he cupped his stubbled jaw. “Don’t make me force you to look at the flowers.” She warned with a creepy smile and patted his face condescendingly. 

“That ain’t even funny!” He grumbled. 

There was a rumor about Carol, that her husband Ed used to beat her. One day he came home from work and saw that she had bought pansy’s and dug up a new garden, which infuriated him. He barged into their home and started slapping her and berating her for digging up the yard without his permission and for spending money on flowers.  
Once the assault digressed she urged him to go outside with her and appreciate the beauty of her new garden, which he humored. The rest of the story is uncertain, but they say she told him to look at them, to really see them for how beautiful they were, then she shot him.

Daryl was the only soul on earth that knew the truth…she shot that mother fucker good and dead. But without a gun the evidence never amounted to a conviction. And apparently a lot of people would have taken the opportunity to shoot Ed. 

“An’ wha’ you—“ He started. 

“Are you smoking in the house? You are!” She scolded, pointing to his cigarette. “Nasty!”

“Blow me!”

“Don’t temp me Pookie, it’s been a long dry spell.” She warned him. 

“Yeah, anyway!” He groused, rolling his eyes dramatically and snapping the door shut. “What ‘re ya yammerin’ on about?” He asked, striding over to the stairs where he plopped down and placed his cigarette between his lips, taking a long pull. Carol’s posture slumped as she sauntered over and sat beside him as he flicked ashes into an ashtray he grabbed off the table on his way to the door. 

“You made an ass of yourself, didn’t you?” She teased and nudged him with her tiny shoulder. 

“Never fails.” He whispered under his breath. 

“How bad?” She asked, her expression like a mother that knew she could fix whatever it was that her baby had gotten into. 

“He tried to—kiss me and I freaked out and left.” He told her, save some details. She smirked and covered her mouth with her hand. “Ain’t funny!” He snapped, rubbing his cigarette out and hopping off the stairs. 

“Oh, breath!” Carol snickered and followed him into the kitchen. “I know just the cure!” She insisted, resting against the counter top and watching him swipe a beer from the refrigerator.

“How’s tha’?” Daryl grumbled.

“You’re such a damn grouch!” She slouched dramatically against the counter.

“I ain’ grouchy!” He snapped, grouchily. 

“All right, let me know when you’re not being a butt-hole.” She shoved off the granite edge and sauntered over to the door. 

“Carol!” Daryl called, trying not to sound annoyed. 

“No, no! You got this, you don’t need my help.” She sounded serious, but he could see that she was fighting a smile and desperately hoping he would want her advice. Daryl huffed out an indignant laugh and took a long swig of his beer. 

“Fine, I’ll bite!” 

“Bake him cookies!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you think:)


End file.
